


I Know You're Hurting (But So Am I)

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Because, in the end, they were both trapped in this Hell together, and apologies meant nothing when pieces of them were being torn apart. Mick rubbed his thumb over Nikki's cheekbone, and he reached up, and kissed Nikki's cheek.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	I Know You're Hurting (But So Am I)

There was too much blood, bright crimson against the pale white tile and countertop. It was smeared, fingertips pressed up against the linoleum, bloodied lips opening in a gasp as Mick, with a gentle touch that seemed beyond his demeanor, wrapped the gauze carefully around the neat, thin cuts. 

Mick felt sick, not only at the sight of so much blood but at the situation itself that was unfolding, which he was helpless against. His fingers shook, and then he pressed the back of one of his hands against his mouth. He hated feeling so small against the world, so weak and useless. 

Cold and limp, like a corpse, Nikki tilted his head. His lips opened and moved, but no sound came. His hair was greasy and caked with hair spray. His eyes, so bright and colorful, looked like dirty emeralds. 

Drugs did much more than kill people - they killed peoples' souls, ripped them out and tossed them away. 

Oh, Mick could remember how smart, how fiery, how carefree Nikki had been, how those eyes had shined with intelligence and wonder and that fierce knowledge and Mick had been blown away. Nikki, with a cigarette between his lips, had seemed smitten in that way of his, so careless but so, so careful. 

Now, Nikki was but a shell, whose real self only came out like pieces of broken glass, and Mick wanted to cry, to fucking sob, to punch the wall until the thin plaster had broken and there was nothing left. But Mick couldn't, because his hands were already covered in blood and there was nothing left. 

"I'm sorry." Nikki said, voice dull, lifeless. He reached out with one of his hands, and his cold, slender fingers touched the side of Mick's face. They were shaking. 

Mick bit back his words, his questions, biting his tongue as he set the gauze aside. He reaches up and pressed both of his hamds against Nikki's face, looking up into his green, eyeliner-smeared eyes. "Don't be." Mick said, because he couldn't handle any lengthy conversations at that moment, and, truth be told, neither could Nikki. 

Because, in the end, they were both trapped in this Hell together, and apologies meant nothing when pieces of them were being torn apart. Mick rubbed his thumb over Nikki's cheekbone, and he reached up, and kissed Nikki's cheek. 

In the morning, they'd have to put on their outfits and glamour once more, but for that dark night, there was nothing that could be done besides reassure each other that the other man was still right there. 


End file.
